Pictures never tend to be of river rapids 

or the coordination it takes eyes to maneuver rock gardens or 

of the tightening of humorous muscles at the side of the mouth 

when you are propellered helplessly in the middle of a river

rock as your pivot 

or the dangling of feet, dragging, along the surface of a quiet moment.

They are of camp and of fires, 

of misty morning and sunsets. 

Somehow photos of a river trip fall incredibly short of capturing the magic 

that is canoe camping.

For this reason - we have art.